Routine
by HUSHHUSHHUSH
Summary: They say insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results; much like a routine. Stuck dwelling on the past, few find the strength to break such a pattern- but was it worth it? Human!stuck; all characters involved.
1. Chapter 1

He watched her dance, taking another shot of tequila, feeling it burn and taking in the sight of the music move around her.

She was so beautiful. The way she moved. She was alone on the dance floor. Her friends long abandoned her for men to grind their pelvises into and she was alone, following each beat and melding herself into the melody.

"I love her," He, resting his chin in his hand and tracing the outline of her form with the fingertips of his other. "Motherfucking do."

A hand on his forearm tore his gaze from the girl, matching it up with that of his bestfriend slash roommate. He smiled a lazy grin.

"I fucking know you do," he said, his voice tired and worn. "Now let's go."

He got up, the world tilting this way and that a bit, but he just laughs it off, holding onto his friend for support as they both walk through the maze of bar patrons and tables, keeping himself from falling onto his face. Which, he could admit, would also be fucking hilarious, so he let go. And promptly fell on his face. He laughed, and he laughed hard.

He knew it's not a normal laugh.

It never is.

He stopped laughing.

There was a reason why he was drinking.

There was a reason why he smokes.

There was a reason why he was in love.

There was a reason why he lied.


	2. Chapter 2

Fuck.

Sometimes, sometimes he wondered about the issues his roommate had.

Either than the ones he already knew about.

Karkat worried about him too much. He could admit that. Gamzee wasn't entirely his responsibility- but he sure fucking acted like it.

He sighed and pushed himself out of his chair, not bothering to tell the others around him he was leaving.

Someone made a snide comment and he just flipped the asshole off, not bothering to look back.

He had worse shit to deal with than being a rude fuckass.

Gamzee was staring at another girl.

Karkat paused and closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. He already knew the few words Gamzee would be saying to him.

He walked over to the bar where his roommate sat, chin-in-hand, watching the girl dance. Karkat could admit, she was a pretty good dancer.

It wasn't the moves that enamoured Gamzee, though. Karkat knew this. It was how she looked.

Or, to put it more accurately, whom she looked like.

Reaching out, Karkat placed his hand on Gamzee's arm, bringing him back to earth. He grimaced when he heard Gamzee's content sigh.

"I love her," Karkat winced again. He tried to pull his roommate from his stool, but it was no use; he wasn't strong enough to budge the much-taller man. "Motherfucking do."

He finally got up to follow his roomate, hand on a shoulder to keep the world from dumping him on his ass. Karkat closed his eyes, letting out a sigh as he lead their way out of the door, thinking of just what-the-fuck he was doing when Gamzee, the fucking idiot, fell flat on his fucking face.

Karkat took in a deep breath through his nose, sending both hands straight to his too-red hair.

"Fucking shit, Gamzee," he hissed, reaching down to get the drunk-of-his-ass kid off the ground. "I swear to God, if-" He cut himself off. "Fuck."

Closing his eyes, Karkat pushed Gamzee forward once again.

"Let's just go home."

The cold air hit them both as the bar door slammed open, causing Karkat to wince, his buzzed-mind becoming confused momentarily as he stumbled over the threshold, Gamzee's arm in hand.

For what seemed to have been the hundredth time that night, Karkat thanked God that their apartment was close by. As in, two buildings down the street. He took back all curses he had made when trying to sleep about the loud, thrumming music- he was grateful for it. So fucking grateful that he wouldn't have to practically fucking carry this sack of shit more than he had to.

The door of the apartment complex was glorious. Fucking heavenly, that sight. He tugged Gamzee along with him, slamming his hand flat against the wooden door as they came to a stop. Reaching into his pocket, he froze.

Where the fuck was his key?

He felt around in his other pocket. Then the other. Then the last one, and he tried them all again.

Fucking- no. He knew he had the key in his pocket when he was at the bar. He knew it.

He grabbed the door by the handle and shook it in its frame, shouting curses and kicking at the bottom of it, only stopping when the then-unconscious Gamzee started to slip down his shoulder to the ground.

"Fucking Strider," Karkat spat as he hefted Gamzee back up to a semi-standing position. "I am going to fucking kill that piece of shit."

The cold snow-mixed wind swirled around them and he let out another string of curses, finally thinking of looking through Gamzee's trousers. Right in the left pocket- there was a little loop of keys.

Karkat let out a brief whoop of joy and shoved the key in, twisted, and opened the door. He pushed Gamzee inside before turning and re-locking it, pocketing the key himself. Gamzee wasn't going to need it any time soon.

Supporting the great fucking weight that was Gamzee once again, he made their way to their apartment- which, thankfully, was only on the first floor. He struggled with juggling Gamzee and the keys for a moment before getting their door open, following it up with a quick slam of the door and flinging his drunk roommate onto the couch.

"Fuck," he slid to his ass against the door, cradling his face in his hands. "Fuck, Gamzee. Just fuck."

The sleeping form that was Gamzee didn't even stir. Though, it did begin to snore; much to the annoyance of Karkat.

"Sometimes," he said between gritted teeth, "sometimes I fucking wish you just... Fuck. I don't even fucking know-" he startled when his phone began to go off, a quick burst of "My Heart's a Stereo". "Shit."


	3. Chapter 3

Sitting at his computer, Sollux contemplated suicide.

Not for the first time, of course. And it was hardly a serious thought.

"Just for funsies!" As Feferi would've put it, even if she knew what the thoughts really entailed.

She had gotten darker, he had noticed.

So much darker.

Turning in his chair, he slammed his laptop shut, not bothering to close or even save the file he had been working on- not that it had anything important on it, anyway.

He debated with himself about whether or not he should give in and start taking his meds again.

They would make him far more stabler- at least, that was what they promised.

Did he even want to be stable?

Things were so much more... Right for him, when this off-centre.

The way he was able to switch from happy to sad in moments. And then stay sad for days.

Depression. A word he knew too well.

Joy; one he also knew. Sometimes.

He stood up and stretched out, arms reaching for the ceiling.

It was amazing, how normal he could function while inside, he was reeling; writhing with darkness and despair.

Even more shocking was how nobody could see it. Not even those he was closest to.

He was walking to the little kitchenette in his stuido apartment when there was a knock at his door.

Pursing his lips, Sollux pushed at his glasses so they were secured atop the bridge of his nose and redirected his footsteps, heading towards the door.

Opening it a few inches, he peeked out, only to be greeted by the blaring red chest of a Mister Dave Strider.

An interesting guest, one he rarely entertained. Sollux raised his eyebrows, more than curious.

"What?" He asked, opening the door a bit more and straightening up; an automatic gesture brought on by the intimidating fact that Sollux, in all his glory, was fucking short compared to... Well most people, but Dave, paired with his immense confidence, was just plain fucking tall.

The blonde's face was expressionless as he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. "Your little girlfriend needs to keep better track of her shit."

Sollux gave Dave a blink of "what the fuck" before letting out a sigh and stepping away from the door, letting it swing open. "Fine. Come the fuck in, I gueth." His lisp butchered his words, making him wince internally. Sure, he had gotten used to the fucking thing; but sometimes, times like when he felt like the scum of the fucking earth- He didn't quite like it much.

Dave sauntered in, his stride so non-chalant and natural it stung at Sollux. He would never be like that. Never so purely... Right. Shutting the door, he continued what he had been doing previously and went to the kitchen, flicking the coffee maker "on" and grabbing himself a danish from the cupboard.

"Now what wath it you were thaying?" He leaned against the kitchen counter, not bothering to walk the few steps it took to make it to the "living room". The apartment was small; which was fine for him. After all, it was just him there at all times. Most times. Pretty much the majourity of all times.

Holding up a hand, Dave dangled a set of keys, jingling them slightly. "Like I said. She needs to pay attention to who's reaching into her pants, if you know what I mean." Pausing as Sollux came over to snatch them out of his grasp, he settled his arm back down and kicked his legs up on the coffee table, slouching into the cushions of the couch. "If she wasn't so busy gawking that one clown fucktard-"

"Am I going to get you to thtop referring to Karkat ath a female, or are you going to keep up with that bullthit."

The blonde shrugged. "He needs to stop babysitting that asshat. It's making him such an easy victim."

"Look," Sollux began, a little anger causing his voice to harden. "Firtht of all, thut the fuck up. Thecond of all; he hath to. I don't thee any one elthe jumping at the role of watching over GZ."

"Yeah, yeah; what a huge responsibility. Whatever. Why don't you just get him some like, oh I don't know, medical help?" He shrugged again as the coffee maker let out a loud string of beep noises. "Doesn't look like you guys are doing too much to help him out."

Standing up, Sollux let himself fume as he walked back to the kitchen. "Do any of uth look like we could affo-"

"Isn't he like, rich or something?" Dave interrupted, twisting himself to face Sollux. "He can pay for it. Not like it's out of his realm of miracles or whatever the fuck it is he's obsessed with."

Sollux walked back to the living area and shoved a cup of hot coffee at the ironic pile of ass shit. "Yeah, but that doethn't mean he can actually pay."

"Right," replied the blonde, taking the mug and setting it on the coffee table absentmindedly. "Because his family is like, Mexican or something?"

"Thpanith, you idiot- Fuck. He'th the whole reathon why Rose is- Fuck. Okay, jutht lithen to me when I tell you that no, he can't fucking pay, neither can any of the retht of uth. So thut the fuck up, pleathe."

"At least you're polite about it, Captor," sipping at his still-probably-too-hot-coffee, he set it back down and stood up. "Still think that weird-ass guy needs help, though. It's getting ridiculous how easy I can torment Vantas." Giving Sollux a nod, he walked to the door and opened it. "Send him my love." And then closed it behind him as he left.

Sollux slumped down onto the couch with a heavy sigh. After a few moments of mental bitching, he reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone, dialing his third speed dial number.

It rang a few times before an irritated voice picked up on the other end.

Sollux grinned. "Are you missing something?"


	4. Chapter 4

_Hey, there. _

_just wanted to let you guys know (you know, just in case people actually read this poop), that this isn't going to be as... droll as it is now. lol. i'm just introducing the characters, setting up a little bit of shit; you know, all of that crud. _

_so stick with me, ya dig? c:_

_ps i'm working on another chapter after this and it's not going to be as boring, i promise. lmao 3 3_

_pps if you could/would leave crit, i would adore that! i'm trying to develop a bit of a style, and i'd love to know if it comes across as dry as it feels sometimes. lol_

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><p>Hands remaining at her sides, she stared straight ahead; past him, right out the window behind him.<p>

"Look at me," he demanded, a hand roughly attempting to turn her face with her chin. She fought; struggling not to budge as a thin film of anger gathered at the edges of her consciousness.

Her jaw clenched, her nails bit into the palms of her hands.

"I said," he growled, using her hair as a way to finally get her head to turn the slightest of measurements. "Fuckin' look at me."

She kept her eyes from him. Her lips pressed shut, mind as elsewhere as she could manage.

"Fef."

"No," she broke; voice sharp and full of distaste. "No."

He sucked in a breath; tried to talk again. She wrenched her face from his hand, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Eridan," she interrupted him; keeping her eyes closed. "You know I hate it when you lie to me."

He blinked at her.

She was delusional.

There was no way she could continue to think like that- absolutely no way. He bit down on his lip and looked down at the corner of the room, sitting back down on the bed.

It was no use, arguing with her. She was set in her mind; so thuroughly determined to think that it was all alright, that what had happened was just a rumour.

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose below where his black-framed glasses rested.

"Fef," he started, keeping his voice calm; made smooth by his accent. "I doubt he lied to me about somethin' quite this serious."

She shook her head quickly, like a petulant child. "No. We weren't gone that long!" Her voice was beginning to become shrill with a mixture of sorrow, anger, and frustration. "And they never mentioned it before to us! No e-mails, no texts, no phone calls- Fuck, Eridan- He's just being an asshole! This is just some kind of cruel joke!" She kicked the foot of the bed, letting her last word drip with venom, volume increasing at the last few syllables. "I can't believe those bastards! They're all so fucking- fucking screwed up! In the head!"

He was up again, reaching for her. "Fef- Fef, no." He grabbed at her shoulders, straightening her and turning her towards him. "You know better than this."

Her russet skin was flushed under his hands, their similar skin tones only broken with the hint of red angry blood beneath. "No, they know better than this!" She didn't strain against his grip, but still glared up at him, tears brought to her eyes from rage causing them to shine more than normal. "They clearly have no decency! No fucking manners! Fuck, they didn't even tell me about Sol-"

"Is he all this is about?" He hissed, interrupting her. For a moment, he glared right back at her; a quick flare of irritation rising up at the back of his head and licking at the back of his eyes with the slight mention of the name. It was quickly quelled after the realisation that no- of course not; she would never be so caught up in something so shallow.

He dropped his hands from her, turning his shamed gaze back to the corner of the room. "Shit, Fef, I'm sorry-" Speech broken by a quick slap, he spat out a quick curse and brought his own hand up to the violated cheek to soothe it, looking back at her. "What the fuckin' hell?"

Her chest heaved with the strain of breathing and sobbing and being angry; her hand still in mid-air after slapping Eridan. "You fucking know better." Slowly, she drew her hand back to her side, taking in a big breath. "I was meaning, they didn't even tell me about the little things. We heard absolutely nothing either than idle conversation."

Recovering from the slap, he nodded. "I know, but they just wanted us to enjoy our time away."

"That's a shitty fucking excuse and you know it."

Eridan swallowed, taking his hand from his face and pushing it into a pocket of his brand-name-jeans. "I guess."

Making a small sound of frustration, Feferi span on her heel and took a few steps away from him, towards the window; the landscape long made dark by the fall of night. "I can't believe you're not at least a little angry about all of this!"

He pushed a hand through his hair and let out a sigh through his nose. "I am angry, Fef. I'm fuckin' pissed. But I gotta have a hold on myself. I can't just go around-" he paused, slamming his eyes shut and grimacing. "I can't just do what I did, you know?"

She nodded, the slight bob of her long hair his only proof of the confirmation.

They stood there, for a few minutes, in complete silence. The only breaks in the void the sound of their breathing and the slight ticking of the clock beside the bed, reminding them of the slow passage of their lives thus far. Feferi picked at a slight chip in the paint of the windowsill; the pale blue peeling off easily. Eridan stood, hands in his pockets, staring at the roof. They were both thinking the same thing; of the past.


	5. Chapter 5

It was interesting, she thought, feeling this way from a mere glance.

A glance that, of course, turned into a strict observing one; she was not about to let anything personal get in the way of her job.

Her clipboard clamped firmly in the grip of her right hand (after all, she wrote with her left hand- earning her the name of 'Sinister Sister' by a friend or two), a pen in her left, she scribbled down little notes.

She noted the woman's olive, gorgeous skin; but not the way it looked like it would shimmer like the purest of Mediterranean seas in soft near-dusk sunlight.

She noted the steady gaze; but not the incredible shade of hazel- no, green. The type of green you think of when dreaming of forests and nymphs.

She noted the neat overall appearance; but not the curves that the blocky garb could not hide, nor the short-and-prim haircut that held the exact green of her eyes in streaks, nor the slim hands folded in her lap, nor the lips so perfectly pursed- so kissibly formed.

What ever could she be in for?

Rose- dressed so unappealingly in her scrubs; the cloth flaring too much on her narrow hips, bagging in an unflattering way over her breasts- found herself in a conundrum. How could this woman, so perfect and so delightfully beautiful, have gotten herself in the custody of the "rehabilitation" centre? The chart said nothing; after all, Rose was still just a lowly intern, sent in only to give a little cuplet of pills and to make a quick observation of the patient's well-being. It couldn't be drugs of any sort; the woman was much too well put together. The sleeves of her shirt were cut short at the shoulder, making Rose doubt that it was any form of self-harm; there were no scars, no red marks- just flawless, gorgeous skin so tight over bone, muscle and ligament. She was the epitome of health. Her eyes gave away no inner insanity, no flash of schizophrenic panic or paranoia. Just a steady gaze, one that held endless patience and care.

"What is your name?" Each word, spoken so deliberately, so precisely- sent a small shiver down Rose's spine; started her a bit, too, but she held it under control and slowly looked up to make eye contact with the woman.

It was as if the idea of speaking to her left her without her usual exceptional vocabulary; her little way of taking common speech to a more scholarly level. "Rose." She was surprised at how smooth her voice sounded; the way it seemed to float from her; a shy, one-worded kiss of diction.

She smiled. The woman; the illumination of elegance and refinement; the subject of the seeming so-fleetingly odd spring of feeling in the chest of Rose- Smiled. At her. A childish glee filled the girl, internally squirming with delight and wishing for more. More of the winsome face, so full of allure and delicacy; more, more, more.

"My name is Kanaya. It is very nice to meet you."

Oh; but do angels sing like the one before her? The metronome-like voice ticking off words with each pendulum swing, dotting each 'I' and crossing each 'T' with a soft, detailed musical sound that sent her heart into a tizzy.

Rose smiled; a soft, slight turn of mouth. "As it is a pleasure to have met you, Miss."

Before she could spend more time with the fay creature that sat, smiling so slightly with eyes that danced like partners do the waltz; the door behind her opened, a higher-up's head poking in, followed by the rest of their body.

"Lalonde, you do realise you've left Mister McCoy waiting, right?" The nasal edge of her voice, after listening to the flawless harmony of Kanaya's, created a small bud of irritation to sprout in Rose; bringing her lips together in a stiff purse as she sent the woman a nod.

"Yes, I'll be on my way."

She gave no further details. Instead, she lightly pushed the cup of green-and-white patterned pills towards Kanaya, giving the woman a small smile before walking out, clutching the clipboard firmly to her chest.

What was that poetry, brought in to keep her from her work? Where did such pure splendor originate?

The soft din in the hall couldn't distract her as the tiles below her carried her floating form through the labyrinth; her mind so lost in another world she hardly knew what she was doing as she handed out pills and paperwork.

It was all so unrealistic; nothing like it should ever have been thought to be true. Yet it was.


	6. Chapter 6

_i believe this is like the shortest update yet_

_aren't you happy_

_i am working on a chapter with actual content, i swear_

_bee tee dubs: i totally dug that i got a review last time, hint hint_

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><p>The skirt was a little shorter than usual, the shirt a little too low-cut for her breast size, but she didn't give a damn.<p>

She was so fucking tired of not getting the attention she deserved.

It had been five- no, six months and twenty-three days since he had even looked at her in a way that elicited excitement- lust or anything even hinting at such a thing.

Bending over, she tugged up one stocking after the other, snapping it onto her thigh.

He was going to notice. He was going to take one look at her, say something in his stupid fucking drawl, and kiss her like she had never been kissed before.

Jade smiled triumphantly. The plan was flawless! No man could resist her when dressed like such a whore.

Right?

Her smile faltered and she hugged herself, sitting back down on the bed, facing the mirror-doored closet.

Who was she kidding? She never thought she'd get like this.

She used to be so happy, so carefree.

And then her best friend was killed. By accident, but killed all the same.

All her thoughts seemed to go back to that one little bit of her life; the death of her friend. Her best friend, the one whom shared so many interests and qualities and good times.

So memorable. Yet she wanted to forget; to leave it all behind her and just move on already!

She couldn't, though.

She couldn't bring herself to do that.

To dig herself out of the odd depressions she felt herself always drifting to; so quick to lash out and draw her in.

And Dave certainly wasn't helping.

Oh yes, he had cheated on her before.

Though, it wasn't really cheating. They had been broken up; but on some, so very illogical level, it felt like he had thrown all they had away, tearing her heart up before banging some random chick.

It was so frustrating, feeling like that!

So of course she suspected him. Even though she really didn't, all the same.

She just didn't know what to do about it all.

Jade just needed to be touched, to be let know she was loved.

Was it too much to ask?


	7. Chapter 7

**hi**

**so**

**...i don't know how this shot out of my ass and onto the document but yep, apparently i am developing gamzee in this way**

**you're welcome.**

**this was going to be a dave-centred chapter**

**but it got boring so i deleted it**

**i was tired of angst!**

**PS REVIEWS PLZ):**

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><p>It was noon, and it was snowing.<p>

He stood in the middle of the park, arms splayed as he let the little flakes touch down on his bare chest, creating droplets of condensation-like water.

It was as if all of the mirthful gods above him wanted to show him how good everything was; how well all could work out.

He got the message.

He smiled.

Flopped down onto his back, hard-frozen snow digging into his skin and drawing frigid blood.

He let out a long, drawn out sigh that felt like it came from his soul; digging his heels into the rock-like ice and revelling in the feeling of his hair turning damp- The shaggy mess becoming one with the frozen dew.

His bones seemed to settle in his body; every joint and ligament relaxing and popping right back to its rightful position.

Next to him, a disc skidded by, shooting off flakes of snow into his face as he turned to watch it pass, the blur of red catching his attention. He sat up to his elbows, reaching for it with his right arm; moving across his body as to not lose balance.

Before he could touch it, a girl's boot crunched over past him, stomping on the ruddy plastic and flipping it into her hand. She didn't even give him a glance as she turned to walk back up the hill, the hill he was at the end of, the hill she so carelessly and whimsically took a tumble.

Her stumble sent a little patter in his heart and he turned onto he belly, crossing his arms before him and resting his chin atop his folded forearms.

She looked back at him, cheeks tinged with a flush of cold, freckles dotting and spotting her plump little cheeks hiding high cheek bones; deep hazel eyes large with childish innocence and fringed with deep brown lashes; light brows curved delicate over them.

He smiled at her and she waved.

She waved.

His soul felt like it cartwheeled; whirring with life as a small smile lit up her face, giving those eyes a sparkle and those cheeks a crease.

She went back up the hill.

He watched her.

She reached the top.

He kept an eye on her.

She sat on the disk, blocking her face as a snowball came towards it, a boy laughing with michief.

Gamzee felt his hands ball into fists; the only thing keeping him on the ground the cold and the fact that the boy was so much younger- so much weaker- he was already in trouble with the law- Karkat couldn't deal with anything else- and then the girl retaliated, throwing her own snowball at the boy, nailing him in the jaw.

Gamzee relaxed with a small chuckle.

Atta girl.

She came down the hill.

And he still watched her.


	8. Chapter 8

**welp**

**i guess it's about time i threw in some smut...**

**again: reviews keep me writing this, dolls c; c; c;**

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><p>The music pounded from the dinky-ass fucking stereo; pounding sick beats all through the room, bouncing off the walls and right into his skin. It egged him on; shoved him against her, made his body move and writhe and all of those things.<p>

It pumped and bumped; be a man, Strider. Be the man.

And he was.

He was the man; he slammed her dirty fucking face right into the bare mattress, hand gripping short black hair, other hand holding slender, boyish hips.

God, fuck. The way she looked. How it was like she wasn't even a woman- Flat chest, zero hips, short hair; even the way she acted. It was like fucking one of the guys, except this one had a pussy and wouldn't make him be a fag.

A fucking, shitty-ass faggot.

He gritted his teeth and thrusted into her harder- Pounding and pistoning like he was a fucking machine running on hellfire.

She let him put it anywhere. Fucking anywhere.

Or at least, she teased him with the idea; giving some coy little quip about being blind and 'not being able to see the difference anyway'. He took that as a fucking welcome mat to her ass.

And he demolished it. Every. Chance. He. Got.

She was making high-pitched whines and moans; mocking his skill and clutching at the bookshelf make-shift headboard with both hands, knuckles made white from stress.

He went faster; harder, replacing energy completely with anger.

"You really fucking think so, bitch?" He snarled, pulling her head back and arching her, shoving his cock as deep as was possible in such an angle. Slamming into her, he shoved her up against the shelving, mashing her body between it and him as he moved inside of her; sweat melding their flesh together and making an almost sickening slapping sound. "You got a lot of fuckin' nerve."

He shoved his fingers into her mouth, gagging her. She choked and reached to him with her hands; managing to smack at him with one before he tore his fingers from her and pinned both arms to the highest fucking shelf he could manage while still thrusting.

"Yes," she panted, twisting her face so she could see his figure in the corner of her mostly-unseeing eye. "You're- such- fucking- shit- at- this!"

She cackled.

He tore into her; pummeling her with his cock, forcing her into the shelves, biting into her neck, digging his nails into the soft flesh of the insides of her wrists.

"Fucking," he was getting close; all of his anger was starting to rise so high it was like added friction on his dick. "Shut the fuck up," long, hard thrusts; one after another, the fire burning low in his belly. "You fucking bitch-ass cow."

And he was done.

He pressed his body against hers, gyrating his hips inside of her ass as he finished; shoving her hard into the bookcase, sighing and groaning with each pump until he was spent.

And then he separated their sticky bodies; sweat adhering the two of them together like disgusting fucking glue. She collapsed onto the bed, a pile of herself; slicked with a mixture of their sweat and come.

Fuck. He grabbed his clothes- the entire armful- and marched to her bathroom, the layout of the path memorised.

He didn't even wait for the water to warm up. Not that he even planned on using warm water- he just jumped in, scrubbed off with a bar of soap that, thanks to his instruction, was the same brand of his own, and jumped out.

He towelled off and got dressed.

He didn't even bother saying good-bye to Terezi; instead just letting himself out and locking the door behind him.

She knew how the system worked. Fuck, she signed up for it.

He was still hot. Still had fumes running through him; pent-up frustrations that stemmed from some-fucking-where.

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his shoulder, smirking slightly when he realised he never fucking took them off- not even in the shower. That cheered him up a bit.

Frost was gathering at the edges of the lenses; collecting on the residue of water from his shower. He didn't bother to rid himself of it, instead keeping it there as he walked home, hoping Jade would take it as proof of him being outside for a while.

His wet hair was explainable, too.

Snow bank.

You ugly dog.

He closed his eyes.

No, that was uncalled for. Jade wasn't ugly in the least. Sure, sometimes she acted like a fucking puppy- with all of that needy bullshit and the way she just had to stick her head out the window when riding in a taxi- but that was beside the point.

Jade was beautiful. Gorgeous. Had the body of a five-star country singer. Eyes the colour of new leaves. Great personality; happy, always happy and cheerful and fantastic.

Even if he wasn't attracted to her, not all the time, he could see how other pople were. The way other men leered; some going as far as asking her why her skirt was so long- perhaps mid-thigh would work better than below-the-knee?

She would laugh and gently shove them away. Taking their ploys as simple playfulness.

Even after all the bullshit with Gamzee and them- she still took the time to smile. Even if it was much less than before. She was still happy.

Wasn't she?

He came to the front steps of their apartment building, unlocking the door with a key from his pocket, the little smuppet keychain dangling next to it bumping against his thigh.

Red flaring into his vision, he grabbed the plush anatomical disaster and ripped it off; breaking the little metal links in two, flinging it into the alley.

He began to grind his teeth again, pushing open the door and slamming it behind him.

Why did he even have that piece of shit on there, anyway?

Why did he have any fucking remnent of... Him?

He stomped up the stairs.

One flight.

If he found another smuppet on your threshold, he would go berserk.

Two flights.

He would fucking booby trap the doorframe.

Three flights.

He would ignore it.

Four flights.

He went to the door and just opened it. The lock was broken, anyway; another reminder of Bro.

Fuck. It stung to think his name again.

Dave tossed the keys into the little dish on the kitchen counter; but with too much force; they slid around and over the edge, splaying onto the laminate top with a loud sound.

"Jade," he called, only halfway aware of the heat his voice held. He cleared his throat to get rid of whatever he could sense. "No jobs today. I guess I'm just too good for all of the clubs in this shitty-ass city."

She peeked out from their bedroom; long hair pulled up into a messy bun, an old sweatshirt of his covering her until mid-thigh. He smiled. She was so sweet looking.

"Not even at that rowdy place downtown?" Her voice was like sugar, dripping with candy and good thoughts. Somewhere inside of himself, Dave wanted to cry.

He betrayed her.

So many, so very, very many times.

He kept a small smirk on his lips, walking close to her.

"Nah. First place I tried. Said they were set until March."

She frowned. He leaned down and kissed her.

"Maybe next week?"

"Maybe next week."

He pulled her close; a rare sense of tenderness flowing through him. It was spurred on by guilt, but that was no matter.

She wanted him to succeed. She had so much faith in him- Faith that was misplaced at best.

Money was tight; and jobs were scarce. He was still starting out in the DJ'ing world, his brand of sound too different too soon for most clubs.

He sucked in a deep breath and kissed the top of her head. They'd make it. He'd find an alternative once their savings ran too low for comfort; maybe finally owning up to the fair amount of art skill he had gathered in the ironic art classes he had taken; possibly getting a job as a waiter, or in retail. Anything to keep them floating.

Most importantly, anything to keep them from having to ask for help.


End file.
